


Be Seeing You

by TheseusInTheMaze



Category: Kingdom Hearts, The Sandman
Genre: Crossover, Female Friendship, Gen, Gen Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-07
Updated: 2010-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-11 14:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/113277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheseusInTheMaze/pseuds/TheseusInTheMaze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In Castle Oblivion, Namine is visited by a strange, beautiful girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Be Seeing You

Namine sees the girl in Castle Oblivion. She is sitting in her little white chair in her little white room, drawing in her sketchbook, the first time she sees the girl in black. She isn't guiding the picture, this time. Sometimes, she's the one who shapes it, the one who pulls the whatever-it-is (she hasn't found a name for it yet, and she's content in just knowing that the memories and heartstuff can be shaped by her), where she pulls and teases it into the shape that she knows it wants, she knows it needs. Larxene and the others, they believe that she's the creator, but it isn't that simple. Sometimes, the crayon or the brush or the pencil guides her hand, and she goes along for the ride. It's only fair, after all. If it lets her use it, she should let it use her, now and again.

"Hey, is anyone home?" A girl pokes her head around the door, and Namine gasps, because even if she can't feel, she knows, in the place where her heart would be, that this girl is the most beautiful person she has ever seen, and ever will see.

The girl doesn't seem to take much notice of Namine's gasp. She smiles at her cheerfully, walking inside of the white room, the heels of her boots dragging slightly on the white tile of the floor. "Wow, this place is huge. Kinda reminds me of my little brother's place, actually." Her hands are jammed into the pockets of her faded black jeans, and the blackness of her shirt seems to glow against the whiteness of her skin and the stark whiteness of the walls. The girl smiles at Namine again, casually closing the door behind her. "I think I'm a bit lost. Could you help me, Namine?"

Namine swallows and looks down at her sketchpad, her fingers clutching her silver crayon. She finally notices, really notices, what it is she has been drawing for the past who-knows-how-long. It's a "T", but it has a loop at the top. It's identical to the pendant resting on the girl's chest, hanging on a loop of silver chain. She looks at the drawing, then up at the girl, and swallows again. "How… do you know my name?" She should be asking why this strange girl is here in the first place, how she got in, what she's doing here. But something about the friendly pale face is familiar, more familiar than Namine's own reflection. "Do I… know you?"

"Sort of." The girl sits on the floor next to Namine's chair, bringing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin on them. "We met in passing, not too long ago." She smiles fondly, then gets up on her knees to have a better look at Namine's drawing. "You're pretty good!" She takes the sketchpad out of Namine's unresisting fingers and begins to page through it, pausing now and then. "I can't draw that well, I'm afraid. The best I can do is stick figures, and even then they look kinda…" She searches for the word, her face pooching up in an expression that is beautiful in its sheer humanity. Only it isn't humanity - it's a step beyond humanity. Namine isn't human, and she knows how to sense these things, to a certain degree. Like calls to like, after all.

"Thank you," Namine mumbles, examining her feet in their sandals.

"Horrendous!" The girl says, still paging through the book.

"What?" Namine tries to make her mind pay attention to the present, not to the confused thoughts that are racing around her head, chasing each other and trying to name the stranger and remember where she knows her from.

"That's the way my stick figures look. Horrendous." The girl looks down at Namine's most recent drawing, the symbol that matches her pendant. She looks back up at Namine, and her dark eyes are sad and thoughtful and beautiful. "You knew I was coming, didn't you?" She strokes her hands across the paper, making the symbol shiver and flicker on the paper. "Were you trying to warn your friends?" Her voice isn't angry, just curious.

"They aren't my friends," Namine says, and the bitterness in her voice is almost real, "and I didn't know you were coming. I've never met you before." Her hands are shaking, and she squeezes her crayon so hard that she feels it break.

"We met in passing." The girl moves to another one of Namine's pictures, a black coat and sand colored hair, wide sleeves and a hint of ice, although it isn't apparent as to how it is hinted at. "I'm going to see him, soon." She smiles somewhat fondly. "Even was a nice enough guy, if a bit cranky. We had a nice long argument about the soul versus the heart, and then he demanded to see my credentials." She laughs at that, a laugh that is sweet and light and _old_, the way stars and mountains are old, only older.

"Who are you?" Namine asks quietly, looking at the girl who is sitting cross legged on the white floor, her skin pale and glowing, her clothing dark but cheerful. She is familiar to Namine, familiar the way her own heart would be, if she could hold it in her hands again.

"I'm Death," the girl says, calmly and matter-of-factly. "We met before, when your Somebody Kairi lost her heart, and died, in a way." She shrugs ruefully at that. "This whole thing with hearts versus souls and Somebodies versus Nobodies is a rather new development," she admits, and she sounds vaguely embarrassed, but willing to learn.

"But you can't be Death," Namine says, and there are tears spilling down her cheeks. Why are there tears? She can't feel sad, she can't cry. "Death is… Death isn't a person. Death is a… thing." The tears on her cheeks drip down her chin to splash onto her dress, leaving wet spots.

"Oh, don't cry, please don't cry. I hate it when people cry." Death (and Namine knows without a shadow of a doubt that that is who she is, this strange girl, because it is a truth that resonates in her bones) fumbles around inside of the pockets of her jeans to take out a slightly linty black handkerchief. She gets up on her knees and wipes Namine's face with it, and the sight of those dark eyes so close to her own, deep and strong and understanding, make Namine cry even harder, although she isn't sure why, or even how she is crying. "The only good tears are happy tears, and I don't think this is a happy tears moment, is it?"

Namine sniffles, looking at Death through her own misty eyes. There is a small symbol under her right eye, which Namine will remember until the day she dies. She will remember the scent of Death's skin and the feel of her hands gently wiping away the tears pooling down her cheeks and dripping down her chin, the graceful curve of her eyelashes and the pale freckles on her nose. She will hold the memory close and dear to the heart she doesn't have, until she sees this wonderful, beautiful woman again.

"Is that better?" Death smiles at Namine, a cheerful smile, and offers her the handkerchief. "Blow. Your nose'll be all stopped up, I think. Mine does that whenever I have a good cry."

Namine complies, wondering why she doesn't feel the regular shadowtouch of embarrassment. But she can't, not with those kind dark eyes staring into her own. "W-why are you here?" She whispers. "Are you… are you going to take… me?"

"No." Death pets Namine's hair back from her face, gently, a soothing gesture. "I'm going to see the other people of this castle, once their time comes." She pauses, looking Namine deep in the eye. "You're one of my little brother's people," she says, and it's hard to tell if she sounds surprised or happy.

"I am?" Namine sighs, feeling exhausted and some shadow of relief, although why she is relieved, she doesn't know. "I don't think I am."

"You are." Death cups Namine's cheek, thumbing her cheekbone and tucking a piece of yellow hair behind one of her ears. "You're a shaper and changer, and anyone who is belongs to him, at least a little bit."

"Have I… met your brother?" Namine is memorizing the feel of Death's hand on her cheek, the soothing feel of her thumb stroking her cheekbone. "I haven't met many people, but I might have seen him and not known him…."

"Tall, skinny, pale, usually looks like someone kicked his puppy." Death's expression is mildly exasperated but still amused. "He needs to smile more often, but I think it would take a great change in the Universe to actually get that to happen." She lets go of Namine's cheek, and the little Nobody immediately misses her hand. "I need to get going now, but thanks for showing me your drawings!"

Namine stares up at her, feeling desperation in her not-heart. "Wait!" She grabs Death's hand, squeezing it with her own. "When… will I see you again?"

"You'll see me again." Death's voice is quiet and careful and steady. It doesn't have its undercurrent of laughter this time, but it is still filled with kindness and understanding. "Just like everyone else does." She bends down and kisses Namine on the forehead, then pats the top of her head and walks out the door, her boots loud on the ringing marble.

Namine looks down at her drawing, and she starts crying again, although she isn't sure why she is crying. She misses Death with the heart she doesn't have, but some small part of her still feels reassurance. It's comforting, to know that in the end of it all, she'll see her again.

Three hours later, Marluxia is bending over her, watching her sketch. "What's this?" He looks down on the drawing - Namine, with her white dress and yellow hair, holding hands with another girl, a girl with black hair and black clothes. They're both smiling, and the drawing is sad, although it's hard to pin down how it can be sad, or why, because the artist and the observer can't feel anything like sadness. "Making yourself a new friend?" The girl with the black hair looks familiar, in some strange way, although he can't put his finger on how.

"No," Namine whispers, and she is examining her fingers, remembering the feel of Death's fingertips against her cheek.

"Well, I'm sure she's very nice," Marluxia says, and his voice is mocking. "I look forward to meeting her."

"You will," Namine says, and begins to work on her next drawing, letting the pencil guide her fingers. She remembers Death's smile, and she smiles to herself, quietly, because she knows, someday, that she'll be seeing her again, and some part of her Nobodies heart twitches at the thought of seeing that wonderful, beautiful girl again, even if it is for the last time.


End file.
